a viper's nest, maiken—magic au

MAIKEN FORRESTER

You found yourself aching for the warm embrace of the Greenhouse during the summer break. You considered it your second home, in a way, spent so many hours in here. Even squandered some lunch periods just to sit in here and feel the sun beaming on your skin through the dusty skylight. There was a strange comfort to be found in here, and it made a home for itself inside your glass heart.

Plants had always been easier for you to deal with, much like animals and other creatures. They didn't have eyes or ears (at least, not usually), but they were just as alive. Leaping Toadstools had a mind of their own, hopping around on their spongy stems, and Mandrakes cried out as you pull them from the earth.

You breathed in, deeply, the familiar aroma bringing a small smile to your face. It's nice to be back, you think, letting your hands run along the clay pots stacked on a rickety shelf by the door. There was a homely feeling to the place, it didn't look pretty, but it feels like everything is just right. You can get lost in it: reading one of the worn herbology journals with tea stains and pieces of flora taped to its pages, or even just the plants themselves. There's another entire world to be discovered in here.

And you would like to get lost in it forever, to forget about the name Forrester and become something else entirely.